


Wolf In A Maiden's Clothing

by jackson_nicole



Category: Vikings (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-08-26 12:27:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16681618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackson_nicole/pseuds/jackson_nicole





	1. Chapter 1

She was pulled along, rope around her neck and wrists, as the men dragged her through the town of Kattegat, coming to a stop in front of the hall as one of the men went in to fetch the king and his brother. She looked around her, trying to move her hair out of her face, and tried to find the closest man, who didn’t look as strong, that she could take his sword from and use it to her advantage. She noticed the men that held her rope was rather small for a Viking warrior, and inched her way closer. Just before the doors to the hall opened, she grabbed the sword at his side, yanking it up to slice across his chest, making him yelp and drop the rope. Quickly, she grabbed a dagger and cut herself free before pushing herself off the dirt and raising the sword at the other men who had theirs drawn already. She spun around, watching each man, waiting to see which one would attack. She ended up with her back to the door as she shouted at them, swearing at them in angry Norse. She took a few steps back and was met with cold steel pressed to the back of her neck. She stilled as her breaths came in short pants, then slowly turned her head.

“And you’re still quite certain that she isn’t one of us?” The man behind her asked. He was handsome, even with that evil grin on his face. His blue eyes seemed to glow brighter as he watched her and tilted his head to the side. She glanced down and saw his other hand gripping a crutch and braces binding his legs. She looked back up at him and whispered, “Ivar…”

Ivar raised an eyebrow in surprise and put his dagger away, quickly, before grabbing her arm and turning her fully to face him.

“You know who I am?” He asked. She nodded.

“Everyone knows the crippled son of Ragnar Lothbrok.” She said. Ivar sneered and chuckled.

“And who might you be?” Ivar asked, pushing her hair out of her face, wiping gently at her cheeks and forehead to clear it as best he could of dirt. He looked her over, seeing her covered in mud, then drew his eyes to her and gave her what seemed to be a sweet smile. “Hmm? What is your name?”

“My name is Talia, my King.” She said. Ivar smirked.

“Talia? Hmm. Where did you come from?” Ivar asked.

“Northumbria.” At this, Ivar became visibly irritated.

“And how did you find these shores?” Ivar asked. Talia took a breath and said, “You do not easily forget your home.”

Ivar raised an eyebrow. “You are from Norway?” He asked. Talia lifted her chin and said, “I am from Kattegat. I was taken away when I was young and I’ve barely managed to escape my captors with my life.”

“They were the ones that taught you how to fight?” Ivar mused, moving around her as his crutch dragged in the mud. Talia eyed him as he circled her like a vulture. Her body twitched as she realized he didn’t believe her and she was itching to fight him then and there for it, but if Ivar the fucking Boneless was now king, she couldn’t.

“Do thieves and murderers teach their slaves to fight?” She hissed at him. “I had to fight for myself.”

Ivar chuckled, as he continued to circle her and making her motion sick in the process, and said, “How do we know you’re not our enemy? How do we know you’re not a Christian sent here to spy on us?”

Talia rolled her eyes and cocked her head to look at him as he came up on her right side. “And you think the English would send a woman instead of a man?” She asked, with a snide smirk. Ivar stopped as she spoke, then smirked at her response. He reached up a hand, pushing back her hair.

“How did you manage to steal a boat? Or navigate through the open sea?” Ivar asked. Talia glanced at the others before turning back to him as he removed his hand and letting her hair fall.

“I begged the gods to guide me home.” She said. Ivar scoffed and shook his head, moving around her to go back into the hall. Talia glared at him. She gripped the dagger in her hand, as her lips twisted in a smirk and chucked the dagger at him, narrowly missing him as it made its mark on the door. Ivar stilled as she said, “Would Ragnar have turned his back on an innocent and helpless woman who only wanted to be home?”

Ivar growled and the one she assumed to be Hvitserk at his side, looked at him, then to her, with a smirk. “She has a point,” Hvitserk said, making Ivar shoot him a death glare. Ivar turned a little more to extend the death glare to Talia, but her smirk only turned smug, knowing she had him trapped.

“Get her cleaned up. She will wait for me in my room.” Ivar grumbled at his brother before shuffling inside. Hvitserk chuckled and motioned to her to come forward as he took a few steps toward her. Talia sighed, going to him, and took the dagger from the door to raise it to her throat, making Hvitserk’s eyes go wide for a moment before she cut the rope around her neck and let it drop to the floor. She looked at Hvitserk, who eyed the dagger then dragged his gaze to meet hers. With a smirk, Talia flipped the knife around in her hand and held it up to him, hilt first. Hvitserk slowly reached for it, then took it from her quickly, before holding a hand out in front of him, letting her walk into the hall.

~

Talia sat in the tub as she allowed the slave girls to clean her, scraping and scrubbing the dirt from her nails and her skin. One slave poured some scented oil over her shoulders and rubbed it into her back before doing the same to her legs and arms, while the other worked on her hands and feet. Finally, Talia got fed up with being touched and scrubbed by foreign hands, that she pulled herself from the slaves’ grasps.

“Thank you, but I can finish bathing myself.” She said, calmly, though her face was rather irritated. The two girls exchanged glances, worried. “I will call for you when I need my hair arranged. Please put the dress on the bed.”

She loathed telling these slaves what to do, having been through it enough in Northumbria, that she didn’t want these poor girls to have to tend to her, so she spoke to them gently, hoping they would understand. Both women gave one last exchange, then stood, making to leave.

“What are your names?” Talia asked. The slaves stopped and stared at each other in surprise, before looking at her. Talia turned to them.

“Why do you want to know our names, mistress?” One asked. Talia gave a soft chuckle.

“I said I would call for you. I should like to know who I am calling.” She said.

“I am Brunhild.” The first one said.

“I am Magnhild.” The second said. Talia smiled and nodded.

“Thank you, Brunhild. Magnhild. I will call for you when I am ready.” Talia said, turning back around and leaning back in the water, closing her eyes. The slaves looked at each other once more before setting out her dress and shift on the bed. Behind the partition by the door, through the tiny slots, Ivar lurked. When Brunhild and Magnhild came around the corner, he shot them a look that demanded their silence, though they jumped at his presence. He put a finger to his lips before nodding them out of the room. Both girls hurried past him as he turned back to watch Talia. She sat there in the water for a while, feeling it slowly lose its warmth, before she reached for a rag and began to scrub at her arms and legs, pausing for a moment to reach between her legs and give a quick scrub. Ivar smirked as she removed the rag and squeezed it out over the basin next to her, then dunked herself under the water. She popped back up and pushed her wet hair back, wiping the water from her eyes.

Ivar bit his lip as he watched her stand and turn, stepping out of the water and grabbing the linen next to her, to dry herself off. He chuckled to himself, silently, then silently slipped out of the room. Talia dried off and pulled her fingers through her hair, making sure as much water was rung out as possible, then went to the bed and tugged the shift and dress over her head, adjusting it. She did a quick search of the room and stole a dagger from amongst many, strapping it to her thigh and tugging the dress back down. She sighed and went to the door to call for the slaves. Brunhild and Magnhild came back in, Magnhild carrying a tray of meat and a cup of ale, saying it was from Hvitserk who wanted her to eat a little before supper, worried she hadn’t had a meal in days. Talia nibbled on the meat as Brunhild arranged her hair and Magnhild stoked the fire and made sure she was warm enough. Just as Brunhild had finished her hair, the door opened and Talia heard the scraping and thudding of Ivar’s crutch. Talia sighed and waved both girls away, giving a soft ‘Thank you’ to them before they disappeared. Talia stood and turned to him as he made his way over to her.

Bowing her head to him in respect, Talia said a soft, “My King.”

Ivar smirked and looked her over as he got closer, beginning to vulture her again. Talia took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying her best to keep her temper in check.

“You clean up rather nice.” Ivar purred into her ear, pushing her curls behind her more, letting his hand trail down her back.

“I would appreciate it, my Lord, if you did not touch me in that way,” Talia said through clenched teeth, wanting nothing more than to beat him with his own crutch right about now. “I am no slave anymore. I am a freedwoman and I will be treated as such.”

Ivar blinked, surprised by her reaction, but snickered nonetheless and stepped away from her, going to a set of chairs, indicating the second empty one as he sat in one himself. Talia took a breath before going to the chair and lowering herself into it, crossing her legs and resting her arms on the armrests, lightly gripping the edge. Ivar studied her for a minute, smirking as he laughed to himself at just how regal and queenly her appearance was. She held her head high and kept her back straight, even as she leaned back a little more in her seat, her eyes never leaving Ivar’s, almost daring him to do something to piss her off. His head was tilted as he watched her, biting a finger between his teeth and his lips curled into a devious smile. Finally, he inhaled, shifting to straighten his head and pull his finger away, lacing them in front of him, but not before he pointed at her for a brief moment and said, “You were never a slave in Northumbria, were you?”

Talia’s green eyes burned as her gaze narrowed and she glared at him with an intensity so fierce, it made his darken in attraction.

“I was a slave. Don’t you dare discredit me, Ivar.” She hissed at him, feeling bold enough to use his name. “You’ve never been a slave. You may have been mistreated and taunted, but never a slave.”

Ivar’s smirk grew as he asked, “How long ago were you taken? By whom?”

“I was 10 when I was kidnapped by my own uncle. He sold me to a Jarl who took me with him to Northumbria on a raid with your father. He died and another English noble took me for himself.” She said, her hatred for him burning brighter with each word. Hearing she was sold by her own family softened him to her, only slightly.

“I am very sorry your kin subjected you to such a fate.” He said, trying to be sincere, but feeling much too smug and snarky at her attitude to be convincing. “But I am having a hard time believing it. I have never seen a slave sit so nobly as you, command such respect the way you do.”

Talia sneered at him and gave a soft chuckle. “The English noble that took me might have made me his wife, made me bear his children, but that didn’t make me any less of a slave the way he treated me. I won’t lie and say I didn’t learn how to act as a noblewoman, nor will I lie of my treatment. I was sold a slave and stolen a slave, but I killed as a freedwoman.” She said. Ivar felt his heart lurch in his chest as he sat forward.

“Is  _that_  how you escaped, little lamb?” He asked, half teasing, half quite aroused. Talia smirked.

“You think by calling me little names it will charm me?” She asked with a soft laugh. “You do not truly mean it. I’ve heard that tone before. But yes. That is how I escaped. While my husband and master slept, I took his knife and slit his throat. I screamed and knocked things over, calling for the guards and told them he tried to kill me. When they tried to see if their dear lord was still alive, I made quick work of them with their own swords and stole a horse.”

“So you just left your children there?” Ivar asked, sitting back, unimpressed again. This time when Talia’s eyes burned, it was not of hatred, at least not all of it. Tears blurred her vision as her lip twitched, feeling the cool metal of the dagger she stole pressing against her thigh even more. Before she could think any more of using it, she shot out of her chair and turned away from him. Ivar felt a pang of guilt, seeing her reaction and knowing what it meant.

“Four children I bore him…None survived.” Talia said, quietly, but still with every emotion she had before. “And every stillborn or sudden death that happened, he beat me even more.”

Talia turned on him, emerald eyes burning, and said, “So do not tell me I was no slave among the English. Behind closed doors that is all I was to him. He only married me so his children would be legitimate and be his heirs.”

Ivar stood and made his way to her, even as she seethed in anger, daring him to say another word to discredit her. Instead, he stared down at her.

 _Just a little thing._  He thought in amusement. He fought his smirk, opting instead for a soft smile, as he reached up and wiped her tears.

“It is a good thing the slaves did not put kohl around your eyes.” He said, softly. Talia soon noticed she was panting, softly, as her breathing slowed from the angry huffs and puffs she breathed before. As Ivar’s thumb swiped across her cheeks, wiping at her tears, she noticed his touch was soft and gentle. But she’d seen this trick before and immediately pulled away, not allowing herself to fall for it again. Ivar gave a soft sigh and realized that, indeed, his attempts to charm her wouldn’t work. He made his way to the door as he said, “If you would like the slaves to put kohl on your eyes, I will send them back in. They will fetch me when you are done. The feast should be ready soon.”

Talia shook her head and crossed the room to the window, staring out and trying to get a glimpse of the sea to calm her. When she didn’t object, Ivar sent Magnhild in, telling Brunhild to wait until she was ready then come get him. Magnhild grabbed the small pot and went to Talia.

“Mistress? May I apply the kohl?” She asked. Talia gave a heavy sigh as she wiped her face.

“A thin layer, please, Magnhild.” Talia turned to her and gave her a small smile. “Please just call me Talia.”

~


	2. Chapter 2

Once the kohl lined her eyes, making her green eyes even brighter, Ivar came back into the room and escorted her out to the hall for the feast.

“Do you not trust me enough to come on my own?” Talia asked as they approached the table, her hand resting on his, as he touted her around as if to present her. She hated it with such a passion. He was showing her off after having her cleaned up and giving her a new dress. As if the men would have been impressed by her. It happened many times when she was with her husband at events. He always made sure it was known that he, an English lord, had transformed one of the heathens to the north and made her presentable and respectable. Taila wasn’t known for her lying and she  _did_  feel a sense of power being respected. Once she learned the proper way to command and control it, it slowly devolved into the most integral part of her escape.

Ivar glanced at her and smirked as he led her up to their seats. “You’ve already killed one of my men, Talia.” He said. Talia smirked, not bothering to hide it. She’d killed more than once before, she could do it again.

“That was an unfortunate accident.” She said, rather happy and proud. Ivar snickered and pulled out her chair for her, pushing it in as she sat down. Ivar sat next to her and shifted his crutch.

“As I’m sure you meant it to be, little lamb,” Ivar said, leaning closer to her. He gave her an evilly sweet smile as he added, “Do be sure never to let it happen again.”

“I don’t know if I can promise anything, my King.” She said back. Ivar smirked and sat back as the slaves brought out the rest of the food and set it on the tables. Ivar and Hvitserk loaded up their plates, Hvitserk ripping into the meat, hungrily. Talia glanced out at the food and over the men and shieldmaidens. There were a few she thought she recognized, praying they didn’t recognize her. She put a few slices of meat next to a bunch of grapes, plucking a steaming warm roll from the center and picked at it. Hvitserk noticed she wasn’t quite eating and sat back, wiping his mouth as he swallowed before he said, “Are you not hungry, Talia? It must have been quite a while without food on your journey.”

Talia smirked as she glanced at him. “Bold of you to assume I didn’t think to bring food and water with me, Prince Hvitserk.” She said. Hvitserk smirked and raised his eyebrows.

“You planned your escape?” He chuckled. “Much more cunning than you thought, Ivar.”

Ivar chuckled and said, “Must be.” He turned to look at Talia as she picked at her grapes. Ivar swiped his hand over his mouth and crossed his hands, leaning into them. Hvitserk leaned closer to his brother and nudged him.

“Why does this woman interest you so, brother? She’s just a woman.” Hvitserk whispered, pointing at her. Ivar chuckled and leaned back, even closer.

“Because, Hvitserk. I have seen a side of her that you haven’t.” Ivar said. Hvitserk smirked and eyed his brother.

“Is that why you had her sent to your room?” He teased. Ivar lost his smirk and stared at his brother.

“She is still a fucking woman. I have some restraint.” Ivar said, rather offended. It was a partial lie. He had intended at some point he would lay her beneath him, but it wasn’t his sole intention. But he sold the act and Hvitserk gave a shrug and sat back, happily eating and talking with the men. Ivar shifted and leaned against one of the arms of his chair, beckoning Magnhild over to pour him some more ale. She offered more to Hvitserk, who accepted, then turned to leave when Ivar gripped her arm, making her squeak in surprise. Talia’s head shot over and she gripped her armrest as her eyes burned.

“M-My King?” Magnhild managed to squeak.

“Slave. Why did you not offer Talia any ale? Were you not one of the two Hvitserk sent to tend to her?” Ivar asked, annoyed. Magnhild looked to Talia, the fear beginning to show in her eyes.

“I-I am sorry, my King.” She said, quietly.

“Release her, Ivar.” Ivar turned to Talia, surprised and amused at the demanding tone of her voice. He smirked and chuckled.

“You think to tell  _me_  what to do with  _my_ slaves?” He asked, amused. Most of the men saw this exchange, then when Ivar raised his voice, the whole room went silent. Hvitserk glanced from Ivar to Talia, as Talia glanced out around the hall. When she looked at Ivar, she saw his smirk had grown wider, daring her to contradict him. But it didn’t shake her. Talia merely smirked and said, “They were sent to me, were they not? To be my slaves and tend to me?”

“To tend to you then. Not now.” Ivar sneered at her. Talia smirked and said, “You weren’t the ones who sent them, so how can you know?”

As Talia, calmly, looked to Hvitserk, Ivar shot his head over to stare at him. Hvitserk sat back, cleaning his teeth with his tongue and chuckled. On the one hand, Ivar was his brother and he shouldn’t side with her in front of their men. On the other, this woman defied him at every turn and it was rather amusing to watch. Ivar gave him a warning look and added a single, equally as warning, “Hvitserk.”

“Well, during her stay, she should have at least one or two slaves to attend her. If she is staying in your household.” Hvitserk said. Ivar was seething as Talia fought a rather smug and amused smirk. “Though if you do not want her to have your slaves, might I suggest another raid?”

“If my presence bothers you, my King, I’m certain I can find someone in the town who would be so kind as to take me in,” Talia added, only fueling the fire that was burning in him as he looked at her. Talia turned her head to the side, ever so slightly, and raised her eyebrows in an innocent like suggestion. Ivar sighed as Magnhild whimpered, Ivar’s hold on her arm becoming tighter and tighter as he got angrier. Ivar saw Talia’s hand twitch, and her thigh, though she followed it up with a shift in her seat as she watched him, her eyes darting from his hand to his eyes. Ivar smirked and let Magnhild go.

“Very well. You get this one slave.” Ivar said, sitting back. Hvitserk raised an eyebrow, surprised he went along with it. But as Ivar turned back, Hvitserk saw the smirk on his face. He shook his head at his brother and vowed not to get in the middle of whatever it was going on in his evil little head, unless it became a threat. After a while, Talia glanced at Ivar and said, “Was I not shown a room because you wish me to stay with you?”

Hvitserk choked on his food and Ivar snorted his ale, madly waving away his men and shieldmaidens and almost every slave in the room, save Magnhild and a few others. Talia smirked and chuckled into her cup and she took a sip and Magnhild let a small, amused smile pass her lips before anyone saw. Hvitserk coughed and sipped his ale as Ivar wiped his face on the back of his hand, slowly turning to glare at her.  Talia picked at the roll on her plate and turned her head, innocently, toward him and smiled.

“You never told me there was any other arrangement, so I just thought that I would ask,” Talia said. Ivar huffed in anger as Hvitserk watched them, ready to jump up and grab Ivar before he could do anything to her. Ivar’s fist curled so tightly around his cup, it creaked, threatening to shatter.

“Slave. Kindly show your mistress to a room.” He said, through clenched teeth. Magnhild bowed her head and waited for Talia, as she was locked in a staring war with Ivar, her smirk only becoming harder to hide. Finally, with a soft giggle, she stood, bowed her head to Hvitserk in respect, then looked to Ivar and said, “Good night, my King.”

She turned and followed Magnhild out of the hall to her room. Once she was gone, Ivar growled and squeezed a little harder and his cup shattered, the ale spilling over the table as Hvitserk moved back from the spray. Hvitserk sighed and wiped what ale got on him, then stood.

“You’re going to leave me too?” Ivar hissed, turning to look at him. “If you would have just sided with me…”

“And have the men see that you wouldn’t show this woman respect? She’s right, Ivar. It’s what Father would have done. He wouldn’t have turned away an innocent woman who was taken as a slave from Kattegat.” Hvitserk said. Ivar snorted and smirked.

“Oh, my dear brother. She is far from innocent.” Ivar said, sitting back as he shook his hand to get rid of the ale. Ivar looked up at him and said, “Ask her how she escaped.”

“I think she would tell me if she wanted me to know,” Hvitserk said, moving past Ivar’s chair.

“And yet, she’s told me,” Ivar called without turning. Hvitserk stopped and gave a soft sigh. He didn’t really care how she escaped, he cared about whether it was true or not. His father would have done the same, he liked to think. Ragnar would take her in and clean her up, as Ivar was forced to, and he would try and suss out any detail that was inconsistent with her story and confront her. But he didn’t need to worry about it, because with the way Ivar and Talia were going at each other’s throats like this, the truth would come out in a matter of time. Ivar didn’t even care that he didn’t respond to his comment as he heard Hvitserk’s boots walk out of the room. Ivar still smirked, enjoying the silence for a moment before he grabbed his crutch and stood, retiring for the evening as well.

~

Before he went to bed, Ivar had a few more outfits sent to Talia, though he told the slave that he was under no circumstances to tell her as much. So Talia accepted the anonymous offer, rather happy she was given pants and a tunic, for the next morning Talia dressed and marched off to the stables to find a horse. Word of her arrival had already spread, but she was happy to see her boat was still docked and hadn’t been raided or touched. Therefore, Talia was rather happy when she removed one of the wood planks of the hull to reveal a hiding place, where Talia shoved her hand into the darkness, her fingers happily wrapping around the bag it had found and tugging it out. She quickly replaced the board and stood, stashing the bag in her cloak and walking through town as if it were nothing.

She bought herself a mid-morning snack, an apple and a few pieces of bread, munching on the bread as she made her way to the stables to inquire about a horse. As she waited for the stable master to bring her the horses that she could buy or borrow, she noticed a small group of about 3-4 men were watching her and realized she had seen them at every stop she made before she reached the stables. Under the guise of glancing around to people watch, Talia realized they were some of the men that had captured her and dragged her before Ivar and Hvitserk. The very same men who jumped into action, ready to kill her when she killed the man who held her rope. She took her final bite of her apple while staring at the group, unintimidated, before turning as the stable master brought up a horse. Talia smiled and held out the apple core to the beast, who happily took it. She patted the beast’s neck and looked to the man in front of her.

“How much?” She asked, circling the horse and inspecting it.

“Do you wish to buy the beast?” He asked her, watching her as she circled around.

“What is the cost either way?” Talia asked, stopping back at the head and stroking down its face.

“5 pieces if you wish to return him today. 20 pieces if you wish to buy him.” He said. Talia smiled at the animal, stroking his face and whispering softly to him. The horse nickered and shook his body, nudging her with his nose. Talia smiled as the man handed her the reins with a smile. “He seems to like you. I’ll let him go for 15 pieces.”

“10,” Talia responded, looking to the man who was now visibly surprised.

“I-Uh, 14.” The man said, almost unsure of himself. Talia fought her smirk as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and said, “12 and that’s my last offer.”

The man shifted on his feet, clearly not used to negotiating with a woman before. Finally, he nodded and went back into the stable to grab the horse’s saddle while Talia dug through the bag in her cloak. The man saddled the horse and tightened it before going back to her. Talia handed the man 12 silver coins, shifting the rest in her hand.

“May I ask that you take him in at night? Until the time of my departure?” Talia asked, jingling the remaining coin in her hand. She wore a light smirk seeing the man’s eyes widen at the sound.

“How long will that be for, miss?” He asked. Talia chuckled and let the rest of the coins slide from her hand into his as she said, “The full 20 you asked for. I appreciate you selling him to me for less than 20, but if you agree to continue to care for him, these remaining 8 coins for 2 months.”

His fist closed around the coins as he nodded and said, “You’re very kind, miss. I shall. I will let my stable boy know as well, in case I am not here when you bring him back at night.”

Talia nodded, wrapping the reins around her hand. “Thank you, sir. May I ask your name?” She said.

“Haskell, miss.” He said. Talia smiled and said, “Please call me Talia. There’s no need for any ‘miss’.”

Haskell smiled and bowed his head to her. “Thank you, Talia. When shall we expect you back?” He asked. Talia smiled as she swung up onto her horse, discreetly checking the dagger still strapped to her thigh.

“I’m not sure. It has been too long since I have been in Kattegat. I wish to explore it and get to know it again.” Talia said as her horse shifted beneath her. Haskell nodded and said, “My boy, Leif, will be here tonight. You can ask for him.”

“I shall,” Talia said, kicking her horse and taking off through the town. As she spoke to Haskell, Talia wasn’t oblivious to her surroundings. The group of men had disappeared once Haskell came back with the horse, no doubt in her mind they went to get their own horses to follow her. Her suspicions were confirmed as she suddenly heard thunderous hoofbeats from behind as she rode through the woods. She glanced behind her and saw four horses rushing at her. Talia gritted her teeth and growled as she cried out to urge her horse to go faster, gripping the reins and moving with him as he raced past the trees and through the woods, making her turn to head back toward Kattegat.

“Cut her off, Egil! Don’t let her get away!” One of the men called. Talia suddenly began to panic. She only had her dagger and these men, she was sure, came prepared with real weapons; swords and axes. She maneuvered around the one called Egil as he broke from the pack and headed toward her as she made her way toward Kattegat. As Egil got closer to her, she quickly ripped her dagger from her thigh and swiped at his horse, making him laugh. She swiped a few more times before she held her own look of satisfaction and struck out at him, kicking the horse and trying to knock him off of it. Egil’s laughter died slowly as he pulled his horse away and swerved a little, before slipping off the beast. Talia threw back her head in a laugh, elated that she had managed to slice the buckle of his saddle. She rode harder until she saw Kattegat in her sights. She felt her horse begin to slow in its pace from fatigue and Talia let out a soft whimper.

“Come on, boy. Let’s go!” Talia urged. She veered off just before she reached Kattegat and began to weave through the houses. Talia slowed her horse when she no longer heard the hoofbeats behind her and she looked back as she panted, her horse tugging at the bit in its mouth. When she saw nothing, a small smile crept across her face and she sighed, relieved. She nudged the beast into a walk as she made her way through the town, ready to go back to the stables. She swung down and took the reins to lead him through.

“Murderer!” Before Talia could turn to find the source of the accusation, she heard the whizzing of an arrow and the sharp pain as it pierced her shoulder. Talia cried out and tumbled forward into the mud from the force of the shot. She whimpered and held her shoulder, feeling the tip of the arrow poking through her cloak. With a groan, she picked herself off the ground and turned to see the pack of men heading her way again.

“By the fucking gods…” She hissed, lowly. She twitched her cloak to the side and tugged the dagger from its place, ready to fight, even with an arrow in her shoulder. She ripped her cloak away and tossed it to the ground, wiping the mud from her face. The frightened and shocked villagers stopped and stared, as the men shoved people out of the way. Talia’s breathing got heavier as she prepared herself, but before they could reach her, she heard a voice call out, “Egil! Asger! Igor! What in the Nine Realms do you think you are doing?!”

Talia ignored the voice, waiting for these men to attempt to take their vengeance on her, almost longing for it. When the men stopped in their tracks, Talia growled and shouted, “Are you scared  _now?!_  You seemed to be quite content in striking me down while my back was turned! Now that I face you, have you turned into cowards?!”

She heard his voice before she registered his hand on her shoulder as Ivar said with a chuckle, “Easy, little lamb.”

Talia whipped her head around and glared at him. Ivar looked her over and smirked, remarking, “You’ve an arrow in your shoulder.”

Talia growled and moved to swing at him, dagger in hand, but Ivar gripped her wrist and twisted it behind her back, making her whimper at the pain that went ripping through her body, not remembering which hand held the dagger.

“Let me go.” Talia hissed in pain. But Ivar merely chuckled and gripped the arrow, breaking it off before releasing her as she cried out, again. She whimpered and fell to her knees, holding her shoulder in pain. Ivar looked up at his men, his amused look for Talia melting away to an absolute anger that made them step back, even though they were a ways from him.

“This woman has been taken in as my guest, yet you seek to kill her?” Ivar hissed at them.

“She’s killed Ove, my king! She must pay!” One of the men from the back shouted. Ivar took a few steps forward, going around Talia as she groaned, softly, lifting her head to watch them.

“She did. And if you had simply invited her to the hall or told me first, that could have been handled better and your brother would still be alive, Igor.” Ivar said. “Step forward.”

The men around him looked back at Igor, as his eyes shrunk back in fear. Ivar beckoned him forward, repeating, “Step forward. Come now.”

Reluctantly, but out of obedience to his king, Igor stepped past his men. Ivar slowly made his way over to him as Hvitserk helped Talia up and tried to bring her inside. When he tried to move her away, she shoved at his hands.

“Talia, you must have your wound-”

“I want to see what he has to say.” Talia hissed at him. Hvitserk sighed but didn’t try to move her again, simply staying by her side, arm around her and ready to hold her back in case she got any bright ideas. Ivar smirked and looked over Igor and the others. He pointed a finger at them, moving it around as he said, “Who shot the arrow? I know Igor was your leader in this little hunt. And he will be dealt with…But I want to know who shot the arrow?”

Ivar looked between them all, none of them brave enough to admit it. One man behind Igor, the one Talia believed was Asger, tried to hide the bow in his hand. She recognized Igor’s voice as the one that called her a murderer, and she tried not to look too smug at the fact they had gotten caught, attacking her in the open like this.

“Asger,” Ivar said, seeing the movement as well. “Let me see your bow.”

“My King-”

“You would disobey me?” Ivar asked, tilting his head to the side a little and giving him a fierce look. Asger glanced at his friends before stepping forward beside Igor and handing Ivar the bow in his hands. Ivar cracked a satisfied smile as he took it. He looked over it, turning down the corners of his mouth and nodding. It was a calm silence, though the air was thick with anticipation. An anticipation Ivar quickly broke by whipping the bow at Asger’s face, knocking him down to the ground. “If I see any of you near her again, you will be flayed! Ove’s death was an accident caused by your misdeeds in how you handled her capture! You are not to come near her again with such anger for revenge! Is that in  _anyway_  unclear?!”

A ripple of ‘No, my King’s went through the men before Ivar waved them away and tossed the bow to the ground. The men quickly gathered their fallen friend to take him to a healer and they scurried away. As Ivar made his way back to Talia and Hvitserk, the villagers went about their business. Seeing Asger struck down by Ivar, Talia felt a small pain in her heart. She wasn’t too surprised no one seemed to remember her, but she remembered Asger well from her childhood, having grown up with him until the day she was taken.

“Why is she still here, Hvitserk?” Ivar’s voice broke her thoughts and she glanced up at him through her eyelashes.

“She refused to let me take her inside. What would you have me do, brother? Haul her over my shoulder while she is in pain?” Hvitserk said. Ivar gave him a look before turning to her.

“I shall send for one of the healers. Manghild! Tend to your mistress!” Ivar called, making Magnhild jump and hurrying over, ushering Talia inside.

~


	3. Chapter 3

By the time the had gotten Talia calm enough to remove the rest of the arrow, she still had to be held in place, damn near pinned down as they dug around in her shoulder. Talia screamed in pain, hurling things off the table and gripping it as she gritted her teeth at the pain.

“There, now.” The healer said, in a soothing voice as she slowly tugged the arrow out. Talia sighed and groaned in relief, the pain a little less than it was, but still very clear and present. She collapsed onto the table, panting heavily, before two men helped her, slowly lifting her to sit her into a chair so the healer could stitch up her wound. Her sleeve had been ripped off in order for them to remove the rod. The healer placed her naked arm up onto the table, telling her to hold still as she began pushing the needle through her skin, making Talia wince. “Such a fuss you made.”

Talia shot the healer a glare and hissed, “Let me sink an arrow into your shoulder from 50 paces and you tell me if you’d sit here, calm and collected, while someone dug around in your body for it.”

Talia meant to be intimidating and annoyed, but the healer simply chuckled as she continued. “My dear, I have sown up the toughest and fiercest of warriors who have slurred out their swears. I do not need to feel the pain myself to know it. I have seen more than your share.” She said. Talia looked away and huffed.

“I highly doubt that…” She muttered.

“Yet she is one of the strongest you’ve had to tend to, Leea.” Talia turned at Ivar’s voice, not having heard him shuffle his way inside during her little fit. Ivar smirked and slowly made his way over to her, sitting across from her. “Why did you go off on your own, knowing they followed you?”

“I didn't. When I left, they were nowhere around me. It was only when I was alone in the woods that they chased me down. And then they shot me while my back was turned.” Talia said. “Do not make me out to be the cause of this. They are  _ your _ men and they were the ones who tied me up and dragged me through the town.”

“I am aware. I told them this myself. Surely, you remember. You were there.” Ivar said, with a nod of his head and sarcasm in his voice, not even trying to hide his smirk. Talia growled at him and looked away. Ivar chuckled and added, “I’ve clearly underestimated you, Talia. With an arrow in your shoulder, you were still ready to fight.”

Talia gave a harsh sigh as the healer, Leea, tugged a little too hard on her thread, tugging at the wound. She let out a soft huff and said, “I’ve endured worse, Ivar.”

Ivar smirked at her and chuckled. He sat forward, tugging a bag from his side, the contents jingling and clicking together. Talia’s eyes went wide and she gripped the armrest of her chair, restraining herself from shooting over to him to rip the bag from his hands.

“You seem to have dropped this.” He said, pulling himself up and dangling the bag in front of her. Talia glared up at him as the bag swayed, biding her time before she quickly reached up and swiped it from his hand before he could react. Though Ivar’s only reaction was another amused chuckle. “You stole from your late husband after you killed him?”

Ivar went around her chair to check on her wound, setting Talia on edge. She struggled to control her breathing as she tried to follow him without Leea reprimanding her to hold still as she had begun to stitch up the wound on the back of her shoulder.

“How is it you think I managed to get a boat and enough food and water to last me on my journey?” Talia said.

“Why don’t you tell me?” Ivar said, not trying in the least to hide the smug expression he wore as he shrugged at her, taking his seat again. “After all, I am finding it hard to believe that you so easily killed your husband and his guards and simply strolled out covered in blood…”

Talia gave a low growl as she eyed him, her temper nearing its end as Leea tugged at the wound again, snipping off the end and beginning to bandage it. Her nails dug into the wood of the table as she gripped it, hard enough that it made her knuckles turn white.

“And what is it, exactly, you wanted to hear, my King?” She snapped, irritated and defensive. Ivar chuckled and sat there, waiting until Leea had finished her bandaging before waving her away. Leea gathered her things and left the hall before Ivar sat forward and said, “Everything.”

Talia sneered at him, sitting back and retracting her nails from the table, flexing them to rid the ache. Her lips picked up in a smirk and she chuckled. “What is it you want me to say, Ivar? That I manipulated the men and women around me, unbeknownst to them? That I then killed every last one of those pathetic, self-righteous, God-loving Saxons and felt no worse for it? Or perhaps that I had to threaten a woman and her children into giving me their father’s boat and supplying me with enough food and water to last my journey, but I still felt pity for them and gave them my husband’s bracelet, taken from his dead body, by me, once he and his guards were dead?”

It was not the response Ivar expected and when she started to tell her tale, at first he didn't believe her. But the look of pure hatred and disgust in her eyes, accompanied by the tears welling up, Ivar’s smug look slowly dropped as she continued.

“Well, if I know you, Ivar, if the rumors are true, you’ll be pleased to hear this as well; I did not simply kill everyone in my household.  _ I slaughtered them. _ The fight they all put up, oh. I think you would have been rather proud of me.” Talia said, slowly standing. Ivar had dismissed everyone from the hall once Talia was escorted in to be seen by Leea, practically swinging at everyone and anyone that got too close. Even if his men had stayed, Talia would have ripped her shirt from her body anyway, exposing the almost healed cuts and scars that lined her stomach and back. “This is how I escaped, King Ivar Lothbrok. Through the Viking blood that runs through my veins and would not allow my treatment to continue. The blood of my ancestors that guided me that night, guided my sword into the bellies of the men who had begun to show me loyalty. I could have very easily made them accompany me and do all the work for me, but I wanted to be rid of that Saxon  _ filth _ , once and for all. So, before you ever again decide that my story isn’t good enough for you, remember these scars. Remember my face in this moment, and remember...That even though you are king, I would not hesitate to strike you down where you stand if I felt threatened by you.”

As she spoke, she stepped closer and closer to Ivar, making him shift in his seat as she came to stand before him. Ivar let out a harsh breath, looking over her naked body, clad in only her breast band and pants. He saw the bit of ink blooming over her hip, still mostly covered by her pants. His smirk returned as he glanced up at her, reaching out to touch her hip and slide his hand over it. It was a mistake he didn't think he was making, but Talia shoved his hand away, pulling his dagger from his side and leaning into his lap, her hand flying to the back of his neck and pressing the tip to his throat. Ivar jumped and held up his hands, lest he touch her again in a way that would make her actually kill him. He noticed Talia’s hands had begun to shake as she began to breathe harder, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the weapon.

“Talia...Remove my dagger.” Ivar warned, glaring up at her. Talia opened her mouth to speak, but stopped, letting out a soft gasp, beginning to lean away from him slightly.

“Do not  _ ever _ touch me like that again without my permission. I care not if you are king, Ivar, as clear by your own weapon pressed to your throat. This is my one warning; Next time, I will not hesitate.” Talia said, her voice shaking with the intense emotion absent from her face. Her voice shook, thick with tears and fear where her face stood hard and pissed. Ivar gave a small nod and Talia slowly removed the knife, pushing it into his hand as she got off his lap and scooped up her shirt, grabbing her cloak and bag before wrapping herself up in her cloak and hurrying out of the room. Ivar sighed and slipped his knife back into its spot at his side and closed his eyes, tilting his head back slightly.

“Well. That was something, wasn’t it, brother?” Ivar’s head whipped around so fast he might as well have snapped his own neck as he glared at Hvitserk, emerging from the shadows of the doorway, carrying a tray of food and a pitcher of ale, meant for Talia.

“What did you hear, Hvitserk?” Ivar hissed, watching his brother as he approached the table and set down the tray.

“I think you should be more concerned with what I saw,” Hvitserk said, picking up a piece of meat and popping it into his mouth, turning to Ivar. He smirked and slid into Talia’s abandoned seat. “She can be useful to us, Ivar. After that display today; She was ready to fight with an arrow through her shoulder.”

“She is far too wild and unpredictable. She would kill all the men in training.” Ivar said, dismissing the thought as he stood.

“That means she has a raw talent that has yet to be molded,” Hvitserk said as Ivar took a step. Ivar stopped and exhaled, softly. His brother was right; After that display, Ivar knew the story of her escape was true, but he also saw her as his greatest weapon were he to convince her to become a shieldmaiden and serve him. But he refused to risk the lives of his men and shieldmaidens for this woman, who had killed one of his men already. With her angry outbursts, Ivar simply wanted her gone already. If he couldn’t control one woman, the people would begin to question his competence as king and he would not stand for it.

“Let us see how her shoulder heals first, Hvitserk. If she cannot train, she is of no use.” Ivar said. He looked back at him and added, “Since you seem so concerned with her, you can look after her and ask after her well being.”

With a smirk, Ivar added a final, “Let what you witnessed be a lesson, brother. I cannot promise I will weep at your funeral.”

~

Talia burst into her room, making Magnhild jump as she tended to the fire. Talia had dismissed her from the hall, sending her back to the room to prepare her bed. She dropped the ripped shirt and bag, casting her cloak aside as she paced for a moment before dropping into a chair with a sigh and a wince, reaching up to hold her shoulder in pain.

“Mistress, what has happened?!” Magnhild gasped, seeing her without her shirt, scrambling to cover her with a fur. But Talia pushed it away and shook her head.

“I am fine, Magnhild. Just...Get me another shirt, please.” Talia said. Magnhild nodded and went to the chest Ivar had sent, pulling out another tunic and handing it to her, helping her put it on. Magnhild glanced at her as she tied the front of the shirt.

“My Lady, may I ask you something?” She said carefully. Talia looked up at her and nodded. Magnhild chewed her lip, second-guessing herself, and stayed silent. Talia gave a soft sigh and gripped her wrist, stopping her from her tying and making her jump at the movement. She emitted a small whimper and Talia immediately loosened her hold as Magnhild looked at her. Talia gave her a small smile and said, “What were you going to ask me, Magnhild?”

“I-My Lady-That is…” Magnhild stuttered. “Your scars, Mistress. They are from your escape from the Saxons?”

Talia released her wrist and nodded. “They are. Some of them at least.” She said. Magnhild nodded and lowered her gaze, finishing her tying and stepping back, waiting for Talia’s next order. She let Magnhild stand there for a moment, waiting, while Talia watched her. She saw how her mind was working, trying to work up the courage to ask more questions without asking above her station. Finally, Talia stood and said, “Lift my shirt and look at my back.”

Magnhild’s head shot up at her in utter confusion as Talia turned, waiting. Slowly, Magnhild stepped closer and lifted the shirt Talia reaching over her injured shoulder to hold the fabric up as Magnhild gasped and ran her fingers over the deep and many scars that littered Talia’s back.

“Oh, my Lady…” Magnhild said softly. Talia didn't like showing her scars, much less having someone touch them as Magnhild was doing. But Talia allowed it so she would understand what she had been through. Finally, not able to take the sight anymore, Magnhild ripped the fabric from Talia’s hands, tugging it back down to cover it, placing a light hand over her back before taking a step away as Talia turned to her. “You received those as a slave?”

Talia nodded. “Yes.” She said. 

“Then, those-those scars-”

“Those scars are there as a reminder,” Talia said. “A reminder of what I went through that led to me becoming a freedwoman.”

Magnhild slowly lowered her eyes to the floor, shocked that such a strong woman like Talia had such a dark past. Talia watched her for a moment, trying to figure out how to word her next command as gentle as possible. “Magnhild, will you remove your dress?”

The fear shot through Magnhild, if only for a moment before her eyes upon Talia reminded her who had asked the question. She nodded and slowly pushed the shoulders of her dress down and let it slip off her body. Talia saw the scars that lined her thighs and lifted her head a little higher, with a soft sigh.

“Turn.” She commanded. Magnhild refused to look at her, but obeyed, showing Talia her backside. Just like Talia, Magnhild also had scars along her back, though they were much fewer than Talia’s. With another sigh, Talia took a step closer, kneeling down to grab the dress pooled at her feet and lift it to dress her again. Magnhild glanced back at her as she slipped her arms into the sleeves and turned to her. “You were born a slave?”

“Yes,” Magnhild said. Talia let out a soft chuckle and nodded.

“Then there is the one thing that is different from us, Magnhild,” Talia said, softly, touching her cheek, gently and briefly. Magnhild blinked and asked, “You were not born a slave?”

An amused smile passed her lips as Talia said, “No. I was not. I was  _ made _ a slave.”

Magnhild opened her mouth, no doubt to ask what happened, but Talia stopped her and said, “But that is a story for another time.”

Magnhild nodded and said, “Of course, my Lady.”

“Talia.” Magnhild blinked and Talia smiled, leaning a little closer to say, “When we are alone, you may call me Talia.”

A small smile pricked at Magnhild’s lips as she nodded. Talia gave a small chuckle and straightened before she said, “Will you fetch me some food, please, Magnhild? I fear I need something in my stomach soon.”

“Of course. What would you like, Mis-” Magnhild stopped as Talia raised an eyebrow with a smile. Magnhild didn't hold back her smile as she corrected herself and said, “Talia.”

“Anything is fine, Manghild. Thank you.” Talia said, moving past her to go to the window. Magnhild bowed her head before turning to leave. Talia sighed and spread her arms as she leaned on the window sill, looking out. She heard a soft knock and didn't move, taking a few more moments before she wanted to answer. Before she could, the creak of the door opening made Talia turn to find a smirking Hvitserk standing behind it. Talia sighed, not quite ready to endure another brother just yet.

“Do you not wait to be invited into a lady’s room?” She asked, moving from her spot at the window and picking up her cloak and ripped tunic, packing them into the chest. “What can I do for you, Prince Hvitserk?”

“I wanted to see if you were alright. You were gone when I came back with food.” He said, walking into the room and over to her. Talia glanced at him.

“I am fine. Thank you.” She said. By the time Hvitserk reached her, Talia had turned to him, waiting for him to speak. Instead, Hvitserk looked her over, lifting a hand up to pull back the shoulder of her tunic. Talia flinched so severely, Hvitserk stopped and looked at her with a chuckle.

“I merely wish to see your shoulder.” He said, gently, reassuring her. Talia nodded as Hvitserk tugged the fabric away, inspecting the wound. “You are lucky.”

“How so?” Talia asked. Hvitserk chuckled and dropped his hand.

“It missed your heart,” Hvitserk said. The corners of her lips picked up in a small smile as she nodded.

“Yes. It did. I thank the gods.” Talia said. Hvitserk gave a small sigh and smiled. Talia glanced down and shifted as Hvitserk’s gaze drifted to her neck, seeing a raised pattern on her skin. He raised a hand again, reaching for her face and Talia reacted again, gripping his wrist and digging her nails into his skin with a flinch, her eye twitching as his hand neared her face. Hvitserk stopped and slowly pulled his hand away, Talia soon releasing him. Making sure she knew what he was doing this time, he pushed back her hair to reveal a wolf branded on her neck.

“A wolf?” He asked. Talia turned her head away and gave a small sigh.

“A brand. The mark my master gave me when my uncle sold me to him.” Talia said, softly. Hvitserk looked at her and slowly lowered his hand, letting her hair fall to cover it once more. Talia looked at him and said, “He marked all his men with the brand of a wolf so everyone would know who they were.”

Talia looked up at him with a soft smile and a short laugh. “My master thought himself a wolf. He truly believed he shifted into the skin of a wolf at night. He was insane.” Talia said.

“And your Lord Husband didn't do anything to cover it?” Hvitserk asked. A small amused smirk passed Talia’s lips as she said, “He made sure my hair was arranged to keep it covered. He hated the brand. And my tattoos. He never wanted to see them.”

“You have tattoos as well?” Hvitserk asked, rather surprised. Talia chuckled and nodded.

“Yes. One on my hip and one on my thigh.” She said.

“What is the one on your hip?” Hvitserk asked in a teasingly coy tone. Talia smirked and said, “A wolf.”

Hvitserk couldn’t help but chuckle as he raised an eyebrow. “You got a wolf tattooed after the brand?” He asked. Talia shook her head.

“No. My uncle insisted on it before he sold me.” Talia said. Hvitserk blinked, his amusement melting off his face so fast, Talia had to fight her own amusement. There was a pregnant silence between them before Hvitserk spoke again, trying to change the subject.

“Can I send a slave to fetch you something to eat? You need to keep up your strength.” Hvitserk said. Talia’s smile grew a little at the kind offer, but shook her head and said, “No. Thank you. I have sent Magnhild to get something for me.”

Hvitserk nodded and gave a small bow, stepping back from her as he said, “Very well. I am glad you are well. Please send for me if you need anything.”

Talia nodded, knowing the true meaning behind what he said. Hvitserk nodded and turned to leave, but Talia’s sweet smile twisted to a coy smirk as she reached out and grabbed his hand. Hvitserk stopped, not having enough time to turn before he felt Talia pressed against him, her lips at his ear as she whispered, “Do you not wish to inspect the scars you saw?”

His eyes went wide as he turned his head toward her. Talia smirked as her eyes drifted to meet his, shifting to give a little space between them. Talia’s fingers slid over his hand as she continued, “You thought yourself well hid in the shadows of the lit hallway? I know good and well that you saw what happened.”

Hvitserk licked his lips, trying to find something to say as Talia took his hand and slipped it under her shirt, pressing his fingers to the scars over her stomach. His breath hitched, slightly, feeling the still healing scars beneath his fingers.

“I-I-I am sorry that happened to you, Talia,” Hvitserk said, softly. Talia watched his face, taking in his emotions, her smirk growing at the intention and want behind his eyes. She let out a soft chuckle and removed his hand, stepping away.

“I shall send Magnhild to fetch you and the king if something should happen,” Talia said, turning away. Hvitserk sighed and flexed his hand before bowing his head and leaving quickly. Talia let out a soft giggle as she stood in front of the fire, planning out how to handle the brothers next time. She gave a soft sigh before going to her bag on the table, rummaging through it until her fingers wrapped around a necklace, pulling it out of the bag. She stared at the iron pendant in her hand before closing her fist around it.

~

“My Lady, please!” Magnhild whisper shouted as she tried to keep up with Talia’s quick pace while they slipped through Kattegat that night. Talia glanced around, making sure they weren’t being followed or watched. Even though their faces were hidden by the hoods of their cloaks, Talia did not want anyone seeing them and where they went. “Talia, this is not wise. Please! We should go back.”

Suddenly, as Magnhild practically ran to keep up with her, Talia stopped and turned to her, making Magnhild skid to a stop.

“If you would like to return to the hall, do so. If you wish to serve me, stay quiet and listen.” Talia whispered. Magnhild bit her lip and nodded before Talia turned and continued, veering right and to the door of one of the houses. She glanced around before Magnhild knocked at the door, still keeping a look out after. The door opened and Magnhild jumped when Igor’s annoyed face presented itself. He glanced around before looking at her and demanding, “What do you want, slave?"

“My-My mistress wishes to see Asger,” Magnhild said, trying to make her voice as strong and confident as she could. Igor raised an eyebrow.

“Your mistress? Who?” At the question, Talia turned to him and gave him a sweet smile that made his eyes widen and try to slam the door in her face, but Talia was quicker. Her palm slammed against the wood, pushing the door open with a grunt as she forced her way in. “What do you want?! Why are you here?!”

Talia walked in and tossed back her hood. Once the other men saw her, their eyes went wide and they scrambled to their feet, trying to get as far from her as possible. Talia was a touch smug that these men were afraid of her, and rightly so, but she kept her mind on the task at hand. She lifted her head, cocking toward Magnhild in a signal to remove her cloak, which she did. Talia held out her arms, revealing the skin tight dress she wore and said, “I am not armed, gentlemen. You do not need to fear.”

The men glanced at each other, not trusting her, but it made no difference to her.

“Where is Asger?” Talia asked in a casual tone. Igor had long since shut the door and now glowered at the unwelcome woman in his house.

“Resting. From his wounds.” Igor said. Talia turned to him and chuckled.

“As I should be,” Talia said, tugging down the shoulder of her dress to reveal the bloodstained bandages. “I wish to speak with Asger.”

Igor sighed and looked at his slave girl. “Well? Show her to him.” He said, firmly. The young girl let out a small whimper as she hurried to Talia and held out her hand to the curtain on the other side of the room. As the slave turned, Talia reached out to grab her arm gently, but no matter how gentle Talia could have been, the slave flinched and whimpered. The action made Talia’s blood boil, but the tucked it away for now. She smiled at the slave and said, “What is your name?”

The slave’s terror never left her face as she looked to her master in fear. Talia’s eyes darkened for a moment as Igor said, “Go on. Tell her.”

She looked back at Talia and whimpered again. Talia let go of her arm and said, “You know who I am?”

The slave girl nodded. Talia smiled and said, “And you know what I am capable of?”

Again, she nodded. Talia chuckled and repeated, “Then tell me your name, child.”

“B-Bruna…” She managed to squeak. Talia nodded and asked, softly, “Bruna. Will you show me to Asger?”

Bruna nodded her head and stuttered, “T-This-This way, my-my Lady.”

Bruna crossed the room, but Talia didn't follow her just yet. She turned to Magnhild and said, “Wait for me outside.”

“But, mist-”

“I said. Wait for me. Outside.” Talia repeated. Magnhild gave a small sigh and nodded her head before leaving. Talia turned and followed Bruna over to the curtain as she drew it back to reveal Asger laying in bed, half his face covered in bandages. Talia’s heart leapt at the sight, but she kept herself in check as she turned to the men. “May I have a moment?”

“Why? You are the cause of this.” The man to her right, the one called Egil, said. Igor shook his head and the two men to Talia’s left slowly inched their way toward the door. Talia smirked and turned to him.

“Am I? Well, if I’m not mistaken, it was you and your ilk that started it all.” Talia said, slowly making her way to stand in front of him. Bruna had run off the second Egil spoke up and Igor stayed in place, knowing there was no stopping what would happen, no matter what did. “And I’m quite sure that Asger did not willingly take up the bow that held the arrow.”

“Oh, are you?” Egil asked, with a chuckle. Talia smiled and let out a soft chuckle of her own.

“Oh, yes. Quite.” She said. Egil snickered and looked away from her as if she were nothing more than a bug beneath his boot. Talia huffed out a light laugh before she shot out a hand, gripping his cock and making him whimper in pain. “I am also quite sure that if you hadn’t treated me as you did, none of this would have happened. You never once stopped to ask me who I was, only saw the Saxon flag and acted. Now. I have been quite polite in asking for a private moment with your man, and I shall ask again.”

“Let him go, woman,” Igor demanded. Talia’s head shot over to him and she smirked, still with a vice grip on Egil's cock.

“My name is Talia and you will address me as such. Since entering your home, I have been kind and respectful and yet I have not been treated as such. Ask me nicely and I may obey.” Talia said.

“My Lady-”

“Talia.” She said again, her green eyes burning.

“ _ Please...Talia… _ ” Egil squeaked. Talia couldn’t help the smug smirk that spread across her face as she turned to him. With no warning, Talia released him and stepped back as Egil cupped himself and dropped to a knee in front of her.

“I ask again…” Talia said, turning to Igor. “May I have a moment in private with Asger?”

Igor didn't respond, only hauled his friend to his feet and shoved him to the door as the other two men left through it as well. Talia waited until the door had shut to step behind the curtain and close it.

“Talia.” She turned at the sound of Asger’s voice, her eyes instantly welling with tears. Asger stirred and spoke her name again as Talia went to his side.

“Asger. I’m here.” She said, softly. Asger blinked his eyes open, but Talia did not think he truly saw her as he looked around.

“Talia...He needs you...The horses...They...Ran off…” Asger mumbled, pulling a memory from years passed. Talia took his hand and cupped the uninjured side of his face.

“Asger. Asger, it’s me. I am here.” She said as a tear rolled down her face. Asger blinked again, turning his eyes to look at her as his vision cleared.

“Mother?” He asked, softly. Talia gave a small laugh and said, “No. Asger, it is me.”

“Talia? Talia, is it really-” Talia smiled and nodded, kissing his cheek as she gave a soft chuckle.

“Yes, my sweet brother. I’m here.” She whispered, laying her head on his chest.

“Talia...Talia, I am so sorry...I couldn’t-They wanted me to be the one-” Asger let out a choked sob as Talia lifted her head.

“Shh. I am well. I forgive you. I know you would not have done it freely.” She said. Asger sighed and lifted his hand to cup her cheek, smiling as he stared at her.

“My sweet sister. I feared the worst…” He said. Talia closed her eyes and smiled, leaning into the touch. She opened her eyes again to meet his as he gave a half smile. “You’ve grown so beautiful. You look like Mother.”

Talia smiled and nodded, looking down in sadness as she said, “You would remember her more than me.”

“It was not your fault, Talia,” Asger said, as Talia looked up at him. “You were a child. You couldn’t have done anything or you would have been killed as well.”

Talia sniffed and reached into her dress, pulling out the necklace to press it into Asger’s hand. Asger lifted his hand to get a better look at what she gave him. Once he realized what it was, he let out a harsh breath, his lip quivering as a tear rolled down his face.

“How did you manage to keep this hidden from him?” Asger asked, looking at Talia. She smiled and said, “He hated me, but he loved Mother. It was the only thing he let me keep when he sold me.”

Asger closed his fist around the pendant, gripping it tight. “I do not know if our uncle still lives, but if he does...Talia, if he does you have my word I shall gut him like the snake he is for what he did to you.” Asger hissed. Talia shook her head and closed a hand over his fist.

“No, Asger. I will deal with him when the time comes. If he values his life, he will never return to Kattegat.” Talia said. Before their conversation could continue, the door burst open and Igor called out, “You’ve had more than a moment, woman. Now, leave!”

Asger growled, trying to sit up to be able to yell at him, but Talia stopped him. “No, sweet brother. No one must know. Not now.” Talia whispered, wiping her face.

“I am not ashamed of you, Talia,” Asger said. Talia smiled and kissed his cheek.

“I know. But please. Tell no one. Not just yet. Promise me.” Talia said. Asger sighed and nodded, tucking the necklace into his pocket as she stood, the curtain flying open, making Talia turn.

“Leave. Now. You are not welcome here.” Igor hissed at her. Talia blinked, unmoved by his anger and bowed her head.

“Thank you for allowing me to speak with him…” Talia said. She fought the urge to let her lips twist in a smirk as she added, “I will make sure King Ivar knows of this kindness.”

Igor’s anger faded into confusion as he watched Talia pass him and make her way to the door.

“Why would you tell him of this?” Igor asked, turning to watch her. Magnhild looked past her mistress as she reached her, hand outstretched to hand Talia her cloak. Talia took a moment before turning to him with a sweet smile.

“Do you wish to continue to be outside of his good graces? If that is the case, I shall keep silent of this visit.” Talia offered. Igor looked to Egil and the other two men, who all three gave him a look. Igor cleared his throat and looked back at Talia, shaking his head and remaining silent. Talia bowed her head as Magnhild draped the cloak around her, tying it around her. Talia’s gaze swept over the men as she said, “May the gods bless you this night.”

Talia turned and walked out of the house, making quick work of her walk back to the hall.

~


End file.
